


(she is) a radiant warmth

by theformerone



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: When Fig gets her wings, Ayda teaches her how to use them.
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 127





	(she is) a radiant warmth

"Okay, so, how do I do this? Do I just, think happy thoughts or whatever?"

Ayda's head is tilted just a bit, and she looks birdlike in a way that makes Fig's stomach go warm. She reaches out involuntarily, just brushing a little bit of Ayda's flaming red hair out of her eyes. There's a soft fuzzy burn, one that Fig feels every time she touches her girlfriend's hair or gets especially close to her wings. 

The edges of Ayda's mouth quirk up. She blows her hair out of her eyes as Fig pulls back her fingers. 

"While I'm sure that would work for flying spells, your wings are attached to your body. You don't think happy thoughts when you go walking, do you?"

"Only when I'm walking with you."

"The feeling is mutual," she replies. She steps just outside of Fig's reach and circles her. 

The wings are a new addition. Growing into her role as an archdevil had taken Fig most of junior year, and a decent chunk of senior year, too. At first the responsibility had seemed like a burden. Adaine, on her one-elf quest to uncorrupt Fallinel had gotten pretty good at parsing out legal jargon from every realm she could find a book on. That had been a massive help. 

The wings were still a surprise. 

It had almost been like when Fig's horns first came in. The back cramps had woken Fig up in the middle of the night on more than one occasion the month before the wings finally sprouted. Ayda had rubbed tiger balm on her back, and told her stories from the lives she remembered to soothe Fig back to sleep when the hurt wouldn't let Fig sleep. 

The wings had been little like Baby's when they first speared through Fig's skin. It had taken a couple more months after that for them to beef up. In those months, Fig went through what can only be described as second puberty. Her appetite doubled, her horns grew an extra half inch each, the whole gambit. 

Now that her wingspan was more like an adult's and less like a blood imp's, now was the time for flying lessons. 

"When bipeds first learn how to move, they crawl. I assume the best way to emulate that experience would be --,"

"How did you learn how to fly?" 

Ayda purses her lips. 

"Which time?" 

"Whichever time is easiest for you to remember."

"Hm," Ayda's brow purses like her lips did, but her memory is impeccable so it isn't long before she looks less perplexed and more ready to handle the situation. "I first learned how to fly chasing pirates out of the friendship section of the library." 

"Why did you drive them out?" 

"Vandalism."

"In the friendship section? Those bastards."

"Agreed."

Ayda's wings seem to fluff themselves up, almost independent of the person attached to them. There's a tattoo of a dark red feather on Fig's left forearm, a perfect replica of the ones that fill out Ayda's wings. There'd never be another time when they wouldn't be able to get to one another. The ink (and Fig's blood and Ayda's blood, and Fig's magic, and Ayda's magic) had tied the two of them together. 

"Sorry, I interrupted you earlier," Fig starts. "You were talking about how bipeds learn how to fly?"

"Something like that," Ayda replies. "Why don't we start with something simple?" 

There's a moment where Ayda's entire body tenses before she pushes herself into the air. Her wings catch the wind, throwing off red-orange-yellow light. She hovers a few feet off of the ground, then circles Fig before offering her, her hands. 

"I'll hold your weight. Just focus on moving your wings." 

Fig, never one to shy away from a challenge, puts herself in Ayda's hands. 

It isn't the first time Fig's flown. Between freshman year and now, Adaine's cast flight on her enough times for her to have frequent flier miles. Still, Fig's stomach flutters as Ayda takes her weight and her feet grasp for the ground. 

The grass is green underneath them, soft in case Fig falls and Ayda can't catch her. Fig keeps her eyes up on Ayda's chin. 

Ayda looks down, winks at her, a habit one picked up from the other. 

"You're focusing on the wrong thing," Ayda drawls. 

"Not from where I'm hangin'." 

"Try stretching first before you try to get the wind under you," Ayda instructs. 

Fig nods. It's weird, not not difficult. Fig hadn't been able to really feel her horns until after they came in, but she's always aware of them now. The wings shouldn't be such a big step, really. She doesn't exactly think about it when she takes a step in front of the other, or when she moves her fingers to play her bass. It just comes naturally. She'd already learned how to do it. 

"How does your back feel?" 

"Not like anything," she replies, biting the inside of her cheek. "Are you sure happy thoughts wouldn't help?"

"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." 

"Okay, help me think of some. Mostly I'm starting to feel bad for weighing you down." 

There's a warm, strong squeeze on either of Fig's hands. 

"You don't weigh me down, Figueroth Faeth." 

That teases a smile out of Fig. She kicks her legs out underneath her, still looking at the grass and the wildflowers sticking out of the dirt below them. They were only about six or seven feet in the air. 

"I recall the first time I saw you perform live in concert," Ayda starts. "I remember how struck I felt. I was convinced you were casting some powerful spell, but that was just you. I tried to cast dispel magic. You can ask Adaine. She laughed when she saw me do it."

It's early summer, when the air is hot and the breezes are cool. Fig thinks of the countless number of shows Ayda's come to, how nervous she was to perform in front of her girlfriend the first time. She thinks of The Phoenix album, of playing it for Ayda the night before the album dropped, just Ayda, Fig, and her bass and the night growing wider, softer, sweeter around them in the middle of October. 

"All of those people in the arena, shouting and excited, desperate to hear you sing, to watch you play. It was the first time I had ever seen other people react to you the way that I do." 

Fig stares up at her, how Ayda's wings beat almost without a sound. They're made out of feathers and light and fire and nothing all at the same time. Ayda is always aware of her wings in a way that Fig is only just learning; she still knocks stuff over from time to time, which isn't really an issue, unless they're in public.

"I knew in that moment I was the single luckiest person in all of Solace. Because while those people could only watch you onstage, I got to see you off of it. At home, in your pajamas. Or when you first wake up and your hair is tangled in your horns. On your birthday with your parents. With your friends."

Ayda's palms are warm against Fig's. Fig stares at where their hands connect, her black gloves covering her fingers, Ayda's golden tattoos crisscrossing down and around her dark brown fingers. Fig had been wondering what would look better on her, regular gold to complement her tatts, or rose gold to bring out the subtler colors in her wings. 

"Fig."

"Yeah?" 

Ayda smiles down at her. She had outgrown her wisp of a mohawk, and had settled on something more like a flaming undercut. Her bright hair had a curl to it now that it was long enough, and a few strands poked out still from her ponytail. 

"I'm not holding you up anymore." 

Fig blinks, jaw dropping. She turns her head to look over at her wings, which have extended slightly, just enough to match Ayda's and catch the wind sifting through the meadow. 

"When did that happen?" 

"Two minutes ago." 

"Precisely?"

Ayda winks at her again. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Gently, Ayda loosens her grip on Fig's left hand. Fig takes the hint and drops Ayda's palm, but takes pitches sharply backward as she does. She yelps, but Ayda holds firm to Fig's other hand, her opposite hand coming down to support Fig's back, keeping her from backflipping over herself. 

"You tend to have trouble getting out of your own head," Ayda responds. "I circumvented that by letting you into mine." 

Fig doesn't stop herself. She plants a massive smooch on Ayda's cheek. It gets a chuckle out of the half-phoenix before she turns her face to press a smaller kiss against Fig's lips. 

"I like your happy thoughts," Fig says. "I'm gonna try to get a little higher up. Keep holding onto me?" 

Ayda gives Fig's hand another squeeze. 

"Of course."

**Author's Note:**

> oh man i love dimension20 so goddamn much. title lifted from the song i listened to when i wrote this, radiant warmth by miki ratsula. i hope you enjoyed it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(she is) a radiant warmth [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592668) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)




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